


So Sharp

by RembrandtsWife



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Cunnilingus, F/M, Het, Steve and Natasha like a little bit of everything, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-20
Updated: 2014-05-20
Packaged: 2018-01-25 21:13:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1662638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RembrandtsWife/pseuds/RembrandtsWife
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A sharp knife is dangerous even when you're the one holding the hilt.</p>
            </blockquote>





	So Sharp

**Author's Note:**

> A companion piece/follow-up to "So Pretty", from Steve's point of view. Thanks to Kryptaria for attacking my comma splices.

She wasn't his girlfriend. She wasn't his lover. She was… Steve had decided Natasha was his friend. The boundaries of friendship were just drawn a little differently than they were back in his day. Natasha hadn't used it, but Steve had heard the phrase "friends with benefits" and thought it might do. Or just call them colleagues who were occasionally unprofessional with each other.

 

After finding and then losing Bucky again, Steve had relocated to Brooklyn, to an apartment close to the old neighborhood. He knew both Sam Wilson and Natasha were willing to help him look for Bucky; he hoped that Bucky might come looking for him, if he'd survived, and that maybe his being in Brooklyn would help. In the meantime, all three of them--he and Nat and Sam--needed to lie low for a while. He went down to DC occasionally to visit Sam and see the museums; he never got tired of the museums. And when she was in New York, Natasha always stopped by.

 

He took her to dinner sometimes. He took her to see cheesy thrillers that made them laugh and throw popcorn. She curled up on the sofa with him and watched some of the incredible tv shows that had come and gone while he'd been sleeping in the ice. They swapped stories about the other Avengers, keeping each other caught up on gossip. And they made love.

 

Well, Steve thought of it as making love. He did love Natasha, after all, even if it wasn't in a romantic sort of way. It was definitely not just fucking. Maybe Nat just thought of it as having sex.

 

So they made love, or had sex. Got a leg over, as Falsworth used to say. Got their rocks off, as Stark put it. Stark was as nosy about Steve's relationship with Natasha as he had been about Dr. Banner's alter ego. Lucky for Steve that Nat and Pepper Potts were friends. Pepper could shut Tony up.

 

Tonight they had seen a French film with a lot of nudity. Natasha had been toying with him all through it, stroking his arm, his hand, his thigh with light fingers. Not his fault that she ended up hoisted against the door as soon as they got in the apartment, his mouth demanding reparations for all the teasing. 

 

She was so small, Natasha, but not fragile. Most people were fragile compared to him, and of course he could hurt Natasha badly if he wanted to, but she could hurt him, too. He hoped to God he never had to be on the opposite side of a fight from her; he didn't think she could kill him, but she could hurt him. She weighed hardly anything, straddling his thighs, her back against the wall; she ground her hips against his, running her sharp-nailed fingers through his hair, and if she wanted to, she could put four knives in him before he felt the pain of the first one. She was like a knife, small, pretty, and honed to a deadly edge. 

 

Her hands were slipping down between them, unzipping and untucking and lining up, and then he was inside, groaning as she squeezed down on him. "Hard, Rogers, make it hard," she growled against his ear, and that deep harsh voice was one he couldn't refuse. He braced his hands flat against the wall above his head and pounded into her, grunting, until he burst in an orgasm as quick and hot as a bomb going off.

 

Natasha's fingers trailed over his neck. Her internal muscles were trembling around him. Steve took a deep breath, then put his arms around her and turned, to carry her to his bed just like that. His cock slipped out, but he didn't really get soft. She slipped away from him with a quick kiss, "Be right back," and ducked into the bathroom. Steve undressed and hung up his trousers to wear again.

 

Nat came back naked, her hands cool and damp from having washed, her smile pleased and expectant. With cool hands she drew him into a kiss, a slow one. Steve relaxed and allowed himself to enjoy touching her, liking the feeling of smooth soft skin over sleek muscles. Her breasts were soft and full and so was her bottom--he loved cupping his hands around her bottom--but he was too aware of his own physical enhancement, always, to miss what other people's bodies told him. Natasha's body told him she was a panther pretending to be a house cat; it told him she was a killer, but then, so was he.

 

When they moved onto the bed, he just followed his impulse to kiss his way down her body. It was a good impulse. Nat stretched and purred and arched up into his touch, greedy for every sensation. He wasn't sure if she had come before. Probably once. He'd make sure she came again.

 

It was still a little strange to him that she shaved off the hair between her legs. It sure did make it easy to please her with his mouth, though. Every little detail was right out in plain sight. She was flushed deep pink, silky wet, the folds spread open some by his cock. He dipped his tongue in for a taste, and she purred in response. Circling her clit with the tip of his tongue made her lift her hips and twist. 

 

"How about some fingers, Cap?"

 

He slipped two fingers up inside her and felt her pulse around him. So hot, and he loved the way her cunt clung to him when he pulled out, didn't want to let him go. He pushed his fingers back in and rubbed at her, easy, while giving her big, sloppy strokes of his tongue. Nat whimpered and shivered and came again, her cunt taking three fingers before she was done. He kissed her thighs softly until she stopped him with her fingers, then kissed her fingers until she sat up and shoved at his chest. 

 

"Turnabout is fair play, Steve."

 

She had to use both hands as well as her mouth to cover the whole of his cock, but oh, what she could do with them. The same hands that could twist a garotte, shoot a gun, break bones, land punches that would bruise even him…. Those hands could do things that had the room spinning around him in the best possible way. Her mouth was as soft and hot and wet and sensual and greedy as her cunt, and Nat pushed him until he was almost fucking her face, God, he didn't want to hurt her. She would stop him if he did, she would, and it was hard for him to come from cocksucking. It just felt like heaven that would never end.

 

She rose up above him on her knees, pushing her hair back with both hands. "Inside me again?"

 

He wished she would just say  fuck me, fuck me, Steve, even though he would blush; he wanted to hear all the dirty words from her sweet red mouth. Nodding, he took her in his arms, kissed her until she squirmed around and nestled against him, her back to his chest, reached down and put him inside.

 

He lasted a long time, then, so long he pulled out to rub between the cheeks of her backside, and turned her over to rub against her belly, and slipped in again while she was underneath again, and fucked her until she couldn't hold onto him any more and just lay with her arms and legs spread out, moaning helplessly. After he finally came, he rolled her up in the covers and cuddled her, savoring the rare pleasure of Natasha Romanov asleep in his bed.

 

Steve kissed her hair, her neck, her shoulder. "My pretty Tasha," he murmured, holding her close. The knife he was holding against his own heart.


End file.
